


People of the Stars

by Leonawriter



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Yu-Gi-Oh! 5D's
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, F/M, Gen, Original Character Death(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-21
Updated: 2014-01-21
Packaged: 2018-01-09 00:20:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1139212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leonawriter/pseuds/Leonawriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They weren't called that for no reason. And for Jack, being strong in Force and the visions it likes to show him, the past doesn't like staying in the past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Crimson

Jack was dreaming again.

_He felt… odd. Head-heavy, but at the same time, completely natural._

_Someone was at his back - several someones - and for some reason, he knew they weren’t like him, but he also knew that he had absolutely nothing to fear from them. That fighting them would only cause more grief._

_Besides. His enemy was right there in front of him, waiting for him to come to them._

_He felt a dark smirk hint at his lips, and his hand reached not for the deck that he knew should be there, but for a… something, a strange metal cylinder that felt perfectly normal, perfectly weighted, in his hand._

_He felt his body shift into a fighting stance, the energies around him adjusting for the coming clash as he felt the fire within him rage to be released._

_The dragon within him, curling itself around his form as he began to move, red flashing, blindingly bright, something yellow brushing at the corner of his eye-_

And then, he woke. He woke just as he had all of the previous times, few and far between as they’d been.

The first time it had happened, he’d still been with Martha. The dreams had lasted several days, and he’d smashed one of her vases without even touching it.

Yuusei hadn’t been that much trouble for her, and Crow had somehow got a good enough grip on his own abilities to start pickpocketing well before anyone had started to teach him what he _should_ do…

The next time had been while he’d been in Team Satisfaction, but at least they’d been able to deal with him then, make sure no one got hurt, ashamed as he was to admit that he might even possibly have needed _help_. Kiryu hadn’t been afraid, though, weirdly enough. He’d expected the older boy to be, because who wouldn’t? Some kid starts making things fly while asleep, not the kind of thing most people stayed quiet about. But then, Kiryu’d had his own secrets.

And then there’d been the time he’d wake up, hidden in the depths of the empty theater, screaming at fears that he’d never remember upon waking but his senses were still fighting off the ghosts of, his… _abilities_ … threatening to bring the building down around his head at times

And now, it was happening again.

He forced himself to breathe calmly. Nothing would happen of it. He was safe. If anything happened, the Director would find some sort of cover story to tell the press, anyone who just _did not believe_ in the strange, the inexplicable.

Since running from Satellite and finding his proper place in Neo Domino, it was hardly as though he was _blind_.

Most people thought that this… whatever it was, this thing that he and the others had, they thought that it was _make believe_. That it wasn’t real. that it was something made up, by a writer, for a movie.

His hand twitched, and he tried to reassure himself that it was for his cards, not something he’d never held before in his life.

He ran his hand through his hair, and he tried to tell himself it was just a nervous action, not to remind himself that there was _hair_ there, after the so-vibrant dream, something that seemed so _real_.

And when he looked in the mirror, he certainly didn’t see his eyes flash red in a moment of overlapping ‘memory’ upon reality, before reality kicked back in and showed him his own violet once more.

He stayed out of bed, in an attempt to shed the remains of the dream and everything that came with it.

 _I was scared,_ he realised, not caring that he was acting as though the dream were something that hadn’t possibly have happened to _him_. _I was scared, and I was… losing something._

He didn’t know what. But what he did know…

He didn’t want to _lose_ like that again. Not ever again.

…

AN: Okaay. So Jack’s having Force-visions of his past self/selves!

This particular one detailed is of a Twi’lek who uses the Dark Side.

The ‘Star Wars’ franchise _does_ exist in this AU, but mainly as the unreliable result of the Force nudging people to _remember_ somehow.


	2. Amber

Yuusei tightened the bolts and screws he’d been checking on his D-Wheel, lost in thought.

Rally, Nerve, Blitz… they were all busy with their own projects, their thoughts and preoccupations a steady hum in the background of Yuusei’s mind. None of them were like he was, like Crow and Jack and-

He stopped himself, about to say ‘like Kiryu was’, but that wasn’t right any more. Not since last week, anyway.

No, now it was ‘like Kiryu _had been_ ’.

They’d reported his death as a matter of fact, a ‘by the by’ thing, almost as though they expected no one to be interested in a side detail. The wing of the Security prison he’d been sent to had apparently blown up, with him still in it.

They hadn’t found any bodies. They hadn’t needed to. No one could have been able to survive that.

He’d felt it. Even at that distance, it’d been like the bond they’d shared had just… _snapped._ Leaving an emptiness where it once had been.

When he remembered Kiryu, he liked to think on the person he had been, once. Before the fear, before he’d been sure that there’d been no where to run, before he’d turned to Yuusei, having thrown an officer against a wall several feet away without using his hands, eyes wild and amber in a way that simply _was not natural_ , not even for Kiryu.

He’d been a good person. He’d always say that much, always, no matter what anyone else said. Kiryu had simply been tempted, by easy power and fear, and hadn’t been strong enough to resist. He’d never been satisfied, it’d never been enough… but underneath, he simply wanted what anyone would.

Safety. A home. The people he cared about.

And now… he was gone. Just like that.

If there was anything to be gained by getting angry, Yuusei would have done so, and be damned with it, but in the end, there wasn’t. Not really. And he’d only get himself taken down by his own friends, like Kiryu had been - for his own good, even if they’d _tried_ to convince him simply to run. To run, and never look back.

So he worked on the D-Wheel as Crow spent more time with his kids than his old Team and foster brothers, as Jack ruled from a throne of an empty theater, distancing himself from the others more and more, bit by bit.

…

AN: I wanted something looking at Kiryu - as I always do - but not in the normal way. So, Yuusei contemplates things.


	3. Clash

_A healthy heart can move in new ways, its light shining upon unknown pathways,_ Yuusei found himself thinking with determination. _A sick one, can be predicted, only knowing the paths already trodden on._

His first clash with Jack had shown him that not all was well. Something about his brother’s presence felt tainted somehow - something dark and creeping having found its way into Jack’s heart.

He’d made the decision then, and hadn’t backed down. He _would_ find Jack. He’d find him, fight him if necessary, and bring him _back_.

Aki had given him a terrifying view of what the future could hold in store for those he didn’t - couldn’t - reach fast enough. He’d already seen what it could do, years ago, but the recent reminder had brought it all painfully back.

Her pain had screamed at him, lashing through him as sharply as any of her thorns. He’d felt it, the immediacy like a stab through the heart, a cry for help that he simply _could not ignore_.

How could he, when no one else could hear it? When they would only call out ‘monster’, and have done with it?

Who else had the strength to stand up to the darkness, to understand… to know and be willing to _share_ that pain?

He wondered if, for all his pride, Jack too was in pain.

…

He’d meant what he’d said, back up there with Godwin. What he'd said moments before, on the track. He and Yuusei… they were _different._

Yuusei saw things as they happened. He always believed in the future as a changeable thing, the past as having happened. Remembered, grieved for, but not lived in.

For Jack, such a thing was not only something that wasn’t in his nature, but also an abject impossibility. The past was always there, ever-present, titillating and taunting him with things that he, those like him, had done. Even - and especially - when it made _no sense_.

Whisperings in his sleep of ‘the Force’, of the ‘Dark Side’, temptations following him into his waking hours that caused his birthmark to throb in time with the sickening sweetness and easy power of it.

And now-

Living in the moment, there here and now, echoes of the past still remained, like ghosts across the millennia and irrespective of the very laws of reality itself.

Clashes, in time with the roars of their dragons, sounded out in his ears.

_Red._

_A roar that was as familiar to him as his own soul, his own heartbeat, a crimson blade of his own power against anyone who dared stand against him._

_Blue._

_Calm in the storm, standing tall despite all of his power, lightning and rain and windswept and glowing, glowing with something so light hecould hardly bear it._

Dragons became lightsabers became dragons and the battle raged on. And he _would_ win this.

…

He almost thought, when the Crimson Dragon took them all, that this was it - the people of the stars, the Signers of old, a sign that they truly weren’t meant to fight. Standing together, united against a common foe…

But it wasn’t, was it?

The stars were calling. They were calling, and something within him recognised the sight as they rushed past.

 _Hyperspace,_ he found himself thinking, the foreign word - not in Japanese, a strange accent even from what he knew of English - crossing his mind. _It’s just like hyperspace._

His awareness of everyone out in the stadium had diminished, almost _vanished_ , the moment their presences had left the place, and in their stead his awareness of the others present, Aki, Ruka, _Jack_ , only grew, heightened by whatever this was.

He could _feel_ Jack’s determination to continue. He _knew_ how worthless, how pointless it was to ask him to stop. He wasn’t sure they could, either-

He heard a sound in the distance, one which Jack found familiar, and he did not. A thrum of energy, a constant hum and then suddenly, a noise, as though a clap of thunder.

 _"Lightsabers,"_ came Jack’s thought, never so clear as it was now. They could have spoken, but what was the point? _"This is… further into the past than Godwin knows of…"_

Yuusei wondered whether Jack even knew if he was thinking ‘aloud’, for all of them to hear, and if he even cared.

The figures they now saw were unfamiliar, yet as known to him as his own arm. He _knew_ those people.He _knew_ that blade, the soft blue glow…

But blades were not what they were working with right now. Cards - those were their tools, their weapons.

They kept going, and the distant past slipped away and out of reach, back into dreams and far-off memories as the present - future, a future he dared _hope_ would not come true - presented itself.

Neo Domino. Satellite. _Home._ Both erupting in dark flames.

_"Could this be… the future?"_

He heard the fear, the _horror_ in Jack’s voice, carried over by the strength of their bond. The fear that this was like the times before, like deja vu…

_"I refuse to believe that Satellite’s only future could be destruction!"_

They had reached the point of not knowing where thoughts carried across through the Force stopped and physical speech started. He didn’t remember opening his mouth, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t.

_"Jack! You don’t need to be afraid! This doesn’t have to happen!"_

From Jack, however, the only words he would give were to go on with the duel.

Jack’s pain as he dealt damage - he felt it. How could he not? Close as they were…

And yet the fight continued.

 _Jack,_ came the desperate thought. _Please. I don’t care who wins or who loses in the here and now._

 _Please - come back to us! You… you aren’t like_ him. _You don’t have to be._

And yet, in order to bring Jack back, he had to fight - and not only fight, but _win_.

And win he would, rushing over regardless of what his feelings told him - _that Jack was okay, that he was going to be fine_ \- because he needed _Jack_ to know, and he needed to be sure.

And when Jack asked, asked _how_ he could have lost… all he could do was answer with the truth.

That in giving in to the darkness, with a sick heart, the pride of a ‘king’… it had allowed him to read Jack’s moves far more than if he had been well.

 _I’m here,_ he sent across the still-raw bond, understanding that the medics were arriving on scene for them and the suggestions that Jack was _going to be okay_ filtered through to him by the Force - that was the word Jack had used, right? - allowing him to be calm as his friend and brother’s head slumped onto the asphalt.

_I’m here. I’ll always be here, when you need me. You don’t have to fight me any more, Jack. And I’ll always catch you when you fall._

…

AN: Otherwise known as the ficlet that’s longer than I thought, yet I should have known it’d be like this. I also had to re-watch the fight for this one.

I’ll probably get to other characters some time after this, but I thought that the whole Jack and Yuusei thing was _important_ , and had to be dealt with before I could move on.

The lines about ‘an unhealthy heart can be predicted’ are vaguely from Vathara’s ‘Shadows in Starlight’ fanfic. GO READ IT IT’S GOOD.


	4. Azure

He was young - only eight or nine standard years old, and young by his species’ count - and so, curiosity will out. Even with a renegade Dark Jedi for a Master.

Ja’quata, or _Jaq_ as his Master had taken to calling him, not caring that he was separating him from clan, from family, from his own past, was wont to wonder from time to time.

 _Trust your feelings, and you’ll find your way back,_ his Master would say. _Trust your emotions, and you’ll know which path you should be on._

Master Fen was wise like that, Ja’quata thought. He knew things, and when Ja’quata followed his advice, he rarely went wrong - although this time, he had been told to stay close, not to wander off, to remain in the spaceport hotel and not be seen.

He’d been walking for about an hour when he found the other boy, dressed similarly to how he was, but in lighter robes.

A zabrak boy, though - he could see the horns, even though the skin was merely a brownish tan, and the yellow tattoos on his face went right from his cheeks to the back of his head.

Ja’quata tried to stay stealthy and unseen as his Master would have wanted, but stealth, sadly, was not his strong point. And the other boy seemed to know that he was there anyway, regardless.

"Hello?"

The boy bowed low as though Ja’quata were some kind of dignitary. Or maybe because he thought that lowly of himself.

"My name is Yamin Dant. I am here with my Master, Corvid Dein. Are you on a mission too?"

The zabrak boy had merely tilted his head curiously at him, and Ja’quata had fallen on his backside in surprise and - dare he say it - shock.

No one talked to them like that, when he and his Master were out and about. No one dared to. And to ask if they were on a mission… to just _ask_ like that, _assume…_

"You’re a Jedi, aren’t you?"

The _Jedi_ frowned.

"Sort of? I’m just a Padawan right now. Aren’t you?"

Briefly, Ja’quata realised that he should probably run back, find his Master, run away from here, since they’d been seen and found. His Master wasn’t favoured by Jedi, and so, neither was he.

Yet he didn’t.

"Sort of.  What’re you doing?"

The zabrak - Yamin, his name was, or that’s what he’d _said_ \- made a face, one he recognised all too well.

"I’m _supposed_ to be meditating on plants. But I don’t think it’s going too well. I don’t think the plants wanted to be meditated on right now.” His face brightened up at a sudden realisation.  “Maybe the Force wanted me to meet you!”

This time it was Ja’quata who made a face.

"That’s _silly_.”

Yamin just shrugged. 

"Master says we’re allowed to be silly sometimes, as long as it doesn’t get in the way of our missions. If we can be, why not the Force?"

Ja’quata just rolled his eyes.

"I know!" The words began sounding hollow, and he tried to keep ahold of them, not understanding why they were suddenly indistinct and weightless. _"Maybe we could meditate together!"_

Jack, still in the hospital he’d been taken to after his spectacular crash following his defeat against Yuusei, almost woke up, but didn’t, quite.

He made an odd sound, as though he’d lost something, something he wasn’t sure how to describe, and attempted to roll over in his bed before realising what a bad idea that was when pain lanced through his arm.

Pain.

Pain that reached through into his ‘dreams’, those visions of the ‘past’, and directed them, faster than thought.

Jaq was dreaming.

Nothing nearly so peaceful as his memories of that one strange meeting with an odd Jedi boy with a familiar red mark on his skin, so similar to one on his own arm, one that his Master told him meant that he was destined for greatness, for great things.

He wandered around the building in his dreams, one he’d been to before. And odd place, it seemed almost empty at times, and at others, overrun with beings, all at peace, never letting their emotions take control… to Jaq, thirteen years old and constantly frustrated, always annoyed and angry and with a Master who didn’t care what he did as long as it was _his way_ -

It was stifling.

He felt like his head was going to explode from everything kept in, everything not said. All the secrets that people had to be keeping - all of it.

And then, as his dream-self, or was that _vision-self_ began to wander the halls of the Archives, a presence seemed to be snuffing everything out.

All of them. One after another.

Not knowing entirely why, Jaq began to _panic_ \- and allowing his emotions free reign, he _ran._

But there was nowhere to run to. The lights kept being snuffed out, becoming nothingness in the Force, the fear and the desperation tainting the air, mingling with his own terror.

A thought hit him, as if not from his own head, from someone else, someone he didn’t know, didn’t recognise, and how, _how_ …

 _The younglings. Force, the_ younglings _-!_

Jaq woke up in a sweat with a scream, hands held out as if to hold off an attack. But there was no attack. Not in the waking world. There never had been, and maybe, hopefully, he now thought, what he had seen would never come to pass.

Not all visions did. Some few, some rare few, they didn’t. This one… it _couldn’t_ …

He couldn’t imagine that horror coming true.

He looked up for the first time since waking, to find his Master leaning against the wall, pale as a human could get, and for good reason.

Jaq’s blue lightsaber had impaled the man through the stomach, the man’s pain coming off of him in waves. The blade must have flown about, lighted, in an attempt to defend him as Jaq had been in the throes of the vision, but now, it had stopped, sheathed itself in a sickening way.

_"Jaq…"_

No. No, no, no…

He’d come to hate his Master in many ways, but he’d never wanted him _dead_ -

_"Jaq… you little… monster…"_

What if he could pull the ‘saber out? But then, the wound had already been made, and not even bacta could help, not really, there’d always be something wrong, and Master Fen was slipping, his presence in the Force fading too quickly for his apprentice to do anything about it.

_"Are you… happy… now?!"_

No. No, no he _wasn’t_ \- the man reached down, with bloodied hands, and turned the ‘saber off. Unsupported, he dropped it and the metal clattered to the floor of the place they were staying in this time.

Anger and hatred exploded outwards at him, and he withdrew onto his bed, the corpse still there on the floor, his lightsaber underneath it as he rocked to and fro, unable to understand what had happened, unwilling to face the reality of it just yet.

Jack woke up again, in the present. _Jack, not Jaq, or Ja’quata_ , he reminded himself firmly. He wasn’t a boy any more. He wasn’t _Twi’lek_ , or whatever that was that he’d been. And despite the fact that there were items moved around in the room as though a strong wind.

A vase of flowers had been knocked down, and had crashed onto the floor. He found himself staring at them, as though they were something else, in another time.

Mikage - and when had he become so good at telling who was who? - knocked at the door, and he forced himself to relax, to shove the fear and the unease away for another time. He _could not_ deal with it right now.

She saw the vase, and had to be assuming that he’d somehow reached out and thrown it on purpose… or with the mysterious ‘Signer’ abilities she knew he possessed, when she wasn’t even aware that they had anything to do with being a Signer at all.

She merely sighed, and began going about picking up the pieces after him, just like she always did.

Jack tuned out, hardly paying anything much mind until the premiere began showing on the TV, and when one astute reporter brought up certain discrepancies when it came to his place of birth-

The replacement vase of flowers went flying for the second time as he succumbed to the frustration and rage he’d been feeling ever since he’d started to realise what his defeat to Yuusei truly meant.

Mikage looked to him in shock, and he belatedly realised that his hands were still clenched fists at his sides on the bed, and had gone nowhere near the vase itself.

"Out," Jack found himself saying. "Just- just leave me. Leave me _alone_.”

She left, and he could feel her being grateful for the excuse.

 _Just leave me alone_. The words formed a mantra of sorts in his head, his pulse pounding in his ears.

 _I’m here_ , Yuusei’s promise reverberated in his memories, the Force or his own desperate confusion bringing it to the fore. _I’m here_.

He merely held his head harder than before, eyes dry, no tears, never tears, he was a _King_ , not a lost little boy who’d just killed his _Master-_

He wasn’t crying. Whatever he was doing, he wasn’t _crying_.

…

AN: I said I’d do something based in the Jedi Signer War, and wow there you have it - I even linked it in with present day events!

…Jack never does have it easy, does he. I just want to pick the boy up and hold him close, but it just doesn’t get any easier, either.

Oh! And yes, those other two are indeed based on Yuusei (that’s Yamin) and Crow (that’s Corvid; the name literally is the family of birds Crows are from, but it’s close enough to a SW name to pass). Master Fen is also similar to - but _not_ the same as, _or_ a pre-incarnation of - Rex or Rudger. Mainly because of training him and enlarging his ego.


End file.
